


Mess It Up

by Daiako (Achrya)



Category: Black Clover - 田畠裕基 | Tabata Yuki
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Drunk Sex, First Time, Intersex Omegas, M/M, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, bad life choices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 18:37:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17412122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Daiako
Summary: A night out with the squad leads to some questionable choices by Finral and Yami.





	Mess It Up

It was a mistake. 

He was going to regret it in the morning, and was already half regretting it in the moment. 

This might just ruin everything. 

He shouldn’t be getting like this, the herbs should have prevented him from being this worked up and getting this stupid, should have kept him soft and dry, kept him from going weak kneed, drooling desperately as he fumbled with stiff laces and rough fabric. His nose and lungs weren’t supposed to burn like this, his skin shouldn’t feel too tight around his bones and like it was crawling with fire bugs. 

It was a mistake. 

That thought, more than anything else, echoed in his brain. He, they, were making a giant mistake and he knew it but was already much too far gone to stop. That point had come and gone four mugs of ale, a warm hand on his back, a rumbled out ‘not bad today’, and a heavy lidded gaze back. He’d dashed any hope of backing off when he’d scooted closer to Yami, thrown back another of the drinks that kept showing up in front of him, and put his hand on the wide expanse of Yami’s thigh, dragged it up the outer seam then, encouraged by the arm around him drawing him closer, and the smell of sweat, smoke, and cloying alpha musk, around to trace the inner seam of Yami’s pants. 

Yami had tilted his head to the side, dark eyes sliding down to stare at him, and laughed in a way that made Finral’s insides catch fire, pull tight, and all his common sense take a vacation. All the reasons he had for not doing something like this, for staying far away from alphas and never letting anyone so much as imagine anything omega about him, just dropped away under Yami’s amused smirk. In that moment he’d wanted nothing more than for Yami to see him, really see him, and want him like alphas were supposed to want omegas. 

Finral had lifted his chin and cocked his head, showing his neck in the way he’d seen other omegas do when they were flirting and following a script that was written on his bones, in the ink of his nature that he kept carefully hidden away, and all but melted into a puddle when Yami’s hand slid up his back to cup the back of his neck. He thought he might have purred even, in that way he’d always rolled his eyes at omegas doing, thinking it too fake, too put upon and serving no purpose beyond stroking the ego of the alpha paying attention to them. But with Yami’s hand on his neck something warm had bloomed in his chest and rippled out through him, made his stomach flutter and gums itch around his omega teeth and something had built inside of him until he’d been curled against Yami’s side, tucked under his arm, and purring. 

He didn’t remember a whole lot between then and now, just a warm hand drifting back to his neck, stroking his skin, Yami’s voice in his ear telling him to come along while the rest of their group was getting deeper into their cups or already passing out on the table. Getting everyone home later was going to be a pain but it was hard to mind it now, pressed up against a wall with Yami’s tongue down his throat. 

Yami kissed like Finral had expected, in those rare moments he dared imagine it. Hard, deep, almost violent as he tasted and claimed every inch of Finral’s mouth, spreading the taste of beer and smoke over his taste buds and swallowing down every noise he might make. The taste of him filled Finral up, grew with each confident glide over his tongue, swipe against the roof of his mouth, and drag over his teeth. Finral has never been kissed like this, hungry and deep, dizzying to the point of seeing stars and making his lungs burn. It was like Yami was trying to draw the air from his lungs, to devour him right where he stood. He could only gasp when it was over, lips sore and tingling, and stare. 

He felt like he should have been on fire, exploding, flaring out and then smoldering. Yet it was Yami who was hot, hands burning as they ran under his shirt, pushing it up to bunch under his armpits, slide down to his hips and pushed his loosened pants away. The wall behind him bit into his bared skin, chill and rough, but then Yami’s hand was there, pushing between his ass and the frigid stone, drawing him away, while the other eased between his thighs. His cock was brushed, rough fingers dragging along from sensitive tip, moving his foreskin and circling the head before dragging down the shaft, curling and squeezing. Yami’s hand was big around, covered him from root to tip in damp heat, stroked up then back. 

Finral lifted up onto his toes, gasped wetly as his head fell back and connected with the wall. He saw a hint of a smile, a curl at the corner of Yami’s lips, before the alpha dipped back down and pressed his mouth against his throat, licking from hollow to chin. His hand moved, short, slow jerks, on the edge of uncomfortable friction, and Finral’s hips stuttered forward and back in time, chasing every touch. 

“How do you like it?” 

“Uhhh?” Finral asked, toes curling in his shoes. How did he like what? 

Yami snorted against his throat; his hand dropped away from his cock, thumb pressing into the spot just below the base, rubbing a tight circle through wiry curls, then dragged down to where Finral was already wet, and getting wetter. The pad of Yami’s thumb grazed his clit on his path down, the barest hint of contact but it was electric, crushing, made his insides contract and his back bow. The hand on his ass moved too, swept over so thick fingers were riding along the crack, rubbing at the sensitive skin there before pressing against his hole. 

“Here? Or here?” Yami’s thumb rubbed along damp folds, worked them apart to press inside, and curled as it sank deeper. “You’re ready to go here, aren’t you?” 

It didn’t seem to be the right time to admit he’d never done anything with anyone, and couldn’t say one way or the other what he might like with something other than his own fingers. And, even if he did, who could manage to talk with Yami touching them like that, thick thumb moving back and forth, rubbing him from the inside slowly, inching a little deeper each time, pushing up  and- his legs were going weak. 

Finral nodded, sucked a breath into a spit clogged throat. “Yes. Yes.”  

Yami’s thumb receded, only for an instant but enough for Finral to whine and clench down on the sudden emptiness, before he was being opened up around other, longer, fingers. It stung, wash is first thought, but it was chased away at the slick press of Yami’s thumb against the stiff nub of his clit. A slow stroke against the underside stole his breath yet again, and a tight circle over the top had him shuddering. Yami’s fingers wriggled in further, determined to make headway with incessant thrusts. Stung, burned a little, but Finral’s body moved on it’s own, hips rocking up, seeking. 

The air between them was filled with obscenely wet squelches. Finral’s face burned. 

“Hmm,” Yami sounded thoughtful. “You’re tight. Relax a little.” 

“Mmm. Just. Just put it in.” Finral’s words ran together, slurred, but he must have made some sense because Yami straightened up some to arch an uncertain eyebrow at him. Finral licked his lips, chasing the taste of beer and Yami and salty pub food. “Please.” 

Yami shrugged and pulled away from him, leaving Finral with the chill of the wall and the cool air where warmth had once been, to undo his belt. Finral watched through lowered lids, panting, thoughts somehow too many, too fast, and faltering sluggishly all at once. Part of him was panicked, wanted to run away and hide but most of him was focused down to a prickling under his skin, a wanting he felt in his core, the need for...something. 

Yami didn’t do more than push his pants down a little and fish in a hand to draw out his cock. Finral, with his shirt rucked up and pants down around his ankles, felt his heart skip a beat. Was it strange to be so dressed when ones partner was in such disarray? Was it-

“Oh!” Finral breathed out. Yami was...big. Not that he had a lot to compare it to but certainly in comparison to his own Yami’s cock was huge. Alphas were supposed to be bigger, or so Finral had always heard, but he hadn’t expected so much! Long and curved slightly upwards, flushed dark under the tan of Yami’s skin, head slick with precum, veins prominent. Thick, really thick-would his hand even fit around it? 

He was reaching out, falling to his knees and only barely aware of Yami’s surprised “Huh?” from above him, before he knew it. His hand was on Yami, fingers grasping curiously to get a better feel for the alpha as he leaned closer. He could smell Yami better now, musk and sweat and leather; drool pooled in his mouth as he drug his hand from tip to root and back again. He could just get his whole hand around it, fingers just barely able to touch, and something about that made his heart leap.   

He touched his tongue to the tip, let salty bitterness flood his mouth, before shuffling in to taste more. It was big, even getting his mouth around it was hard, the corners of his mouth stretching uncomfortably as he struggled to get more than just the head onto his mouth. He was drooling a lot, had it running down his cheek and neck, and his tongue was pinned down by the weight. It was...weird. Didn’t taste like anything really, not like licking the head and down the shaft had, but it was twitching against his tongue, rubbing against the roof of his mouth. 

Finral has no idea what to do with it once it was in his mouth, and barely at that. He tried at first to move his head down and take more (that was the idea right? To get a lot into his mouth) but it was harder than he’d expected; it filled his mouth, pushed more spit out, but there was so much (Yami was big. Really big) that he felt like he wasn’t getting anywhere. He tried to swallow, to suck, but nearly choked on a wave of spit trickling down his throat. He pulled back, coughing wetly. 

Yami chuckled above him and the hand on the back of his neck squeezed gently as fingers swept back and forth in circles. 

“Relax, Finral.” 

Easy to say when you weren’t the one trying oral for the first time, no doubt. Still the warm rumble of Yami’s voice and the press of his fingers guided Finral back, opening wider and letting the aloha’s cock feed past his spit soaked lips. In again, further this time as he made himself swallow around it, push further. His tongue felt weird, the sensation of skin rubbing against it, Yami’s pulse throbbing along the length of the muscle, wet with his spit and heavy, thick, unable to do anything but lay there, trapped under the alpha’s impressive length. 

A light push had him careening forward and Yami’s dick sliding deeper. His jaw tensed, spasmed, twinged with pain as more of Yami was forced inside. He gagged almost as soon as it hit the back of his throat, backed off sputtering and spitting. 

“You’re shit at this.” Yami murmured, hand slipping up to cup his skull. Finral looked up through wet, clumped lashes, face burning, and hoped the older man couldn’t see it in the dark. “Stand up and turn around. Spread your legs. I’ve got something even you can’t mess up.”


End file.
